


Misery Loves Company

by hadtocomeupwithausername



Category: Ragnatela
Genre: AU, Bad Parenting, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28749321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hadtocomeupwithausername/pseuds/hadtocomeupwithausername
Summary: Just a snapshot of what the lives of the Borghese-Winslow family would look like.
Relationships: Leonardo Borghese/Patience Winslow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Misery Loves Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quieta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quieta/gifts).



> Written in Vittoria and Leo's POV.

Vittoria silently and obediently watched Papa do her hair from the reflection in their large bathroom mirror. She was so incredibly hypnotized by the most important person in her life that she didn't even notice the small frame of a woman come into the bathroom.

“What’re you doing?” hissed Mama.

Vittoria’s scalp ached as it pulled against Papa’s grip when she jumped at her voice. The eyes that matched her own burned with suspicion towards her Papa. The question wasn’t meant for her. No questions were. As always, Papa answered, “Fixing her hair.”

“I already did it,” Mama replied tensely, suddenly crossing her arms in a way that foretold how the night was going to go.

Mama had roughly brushed out her curls which gave it an unflattering poof that made her look wild and unkempt. And _of course,_ when Papa saw her hair he had to undo the monstrosity inflicted upon it! It most certainly wouldn't do for his daughter to leave the house looking like a madwoman and not like the little lady she was. _His_ little lady. Which led them to this moment, where he was currently braiding the back of her bun with a red ribbon.

“As I told you dolcezza, I’m fixing it,” Papa smiled.

Papa never looked towards Mama. Instead, his deep blue eyes met her soft green ones in the mirror, giving off an emotion that Vittoria couldn’t identify. The only thing she knew was that Mama was scowling, as she always did, and Papa was smiling as he always did. _That’s why I like Papa best_.

Mama huffed, air going through her nose in a way that looked like a bull ready to charge. There was no need for the color red or a matador to incite Mama because Papa was all she needed to get worked up. Vittoria considered it very odd for her Mama to always be so angry with her Papa, even though they were in love. She watched her Mama lean against the door frame as she watched her husband redo her daughter’s hair, analyzing every brushstroke, twist, and tug he was performing on Vittoria’s blonde curls. “You’ve been at this a long time,” she commented in a tone that Vittoria once again didn’t understand, “I think she’s getting tired.”

That also struck her as odd. You see, her Mama never really particularly cared how she was feeling or if she was tired. No, she only cared about her when she was bonding with Papa! It never made sense, because it couldn’t be jealousy! _Mama never wants to spend time with me_! And she got the distinct feeling, she didn't want to spend time with Papa either. It frustrated and annoyed Vittoria to no end. But Papa, he never seemed to mind. _He’s so patient,_ she thought dreamily.

“Where’s Andrea?” Papa asked, a smirk in his voice.

His meaning was clear. Go away and check on Andrea. _I hope Mama leaves. She’s making things weird!_ “He’s ten. He’ll be fine,” she said shortly.

Her patience was as short as she was. Vittoria once overheard Papa call her name a misnomer, but she had no idea what that meant. “Check on our son, dolcezza,” he reaffirmed.

It wasn’t a question. He never asked questions, and if Mama knew what was good for her she’d go. Papa refocused on his task, while Vittoria continued to stare at her Mama’s reflection in the mirror. With a final heated look towards Papa and a brief glance towards Vittoria, Mama conceded and left. _Finally._

The minute she was out of earshot, Vittoria comfortably spoke up. “I like you better,” she said bluntly.

It was true. Moments with Papa were full of smiles, toys, fun, love, and ribbons! Moments with Mama were full of bitterness, scoldings, and cryings. It was as if Mama didn’t like her. _I don’t care,_ she lied to herself, _I don’t like her either._ Thankfully, Papa almost always took her side and on the occasions, he sided with Mama, Vittoria felt properly remorseful. 

“Vittoria, remember your commandments. To honor thy father AND mother,” he said, though it was only half-heartedly.

“Yes sir,” she said just as half-heartedly.

Vittoria’s legs began to ache and shake from the pain of standing for so long. But she didn’t say anything. _Papa doesn’t like it when I complain. It makes him unhappy._ No, she kept her mouth shut but cleverly let out a little whine to at least make him _aware_ that she was uncomfortable. “Almost done principessa,” he said and with a final hard tug, he finished tying the ribbon, “What do you think?”

_“_ I love it!” she squealed, knowing the reaction he wanted.

He had made a beautiful dutch bun that was so intricately woven, it looked like art! But all she could think of was, _i_ _t hurts._ _I’m in pain._ While her scalp burned, her mind raced. The voice in her head reminded her that her pain and discomfort weren't important, at least not to him. And his opinion was the only one that mattered to her, and to everyone. _A_ _t least I look pretty like a principessa!_ Papa smiled at her proudly and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “You’ll be the belle of the ball!”

Vittoria giggled as he wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her ear, “Go play with your toys. I’m going to talk with your Mama.”

She nodded obediently and scurried out of the bathroom and towards her playroom. Well, _their_ playroom. Her older brother was sitting and staring in concentration at the piece in the operation game. His tongue stuck out of his mouth as he carefully picked up the plastic piece with the tweezers. Naturally, this was the best time to yell, “What’re you doing?”

The buzzer went off, causing Andrea to drop the piece. He said a naughty word and turned his angry blue eyes towards her. Unlike Papa, he didn’t hide his emotions very well. “Damn you Toria!” 

“That’s a bad word!” she exclaimed.

_Papa doesn't like it when we use bad words. He's gonna get in a lot of trouble,_ she thought smugly. Vittoria was at that stage where she felt the need to report every misdoing of every person she came across to her Papa. So far, Andrea was her favorite target. “You did that on purpose!” he said accusingly, pointing a finger towards her.

“Nuh-uh!” she lied, almost convincingly.

He pushed himself up and marched over to her, “Get out.”

Andy tried to push her out of the room, which took little effort even when she ground her feet into the floor. “It’s my playroom too!” she shrieked.

“Just go away,” he said as he roughly pushed her out of the door, causing her to lurch forward.

She spun around quick enough to feel a brush of wind as the door slammed loudly in her face. The sudden shock of his anger made tears spring into her eyes and her nose sting. Vittoria’s mouth formed a pout and created tiny fists to violently bang on the door. “Lemme in! Lemme in!” she cried, “You have to share! Lemme in!”

Andrea didn’t even make a sound. “I’m...I’m telling Papa!” she threatened.

“Go ahead and do that you little whiny cry baby!” he yelled back.

Her heart hurt from the venom in his tone. _He's supposed to love me!_ Vittoria Borghese fully expected his unconditional love, even when she terrorized and tattled on him. _I don't like it when he leaves me out of things._ A sob left her chest. “Please! Andy, please!”

_I hate it when he’s mean to me. Why does he have to be a bad brother?_ After a few moments of wallowing in her misery, she left and tried to find something else to do. _What’s taking Mama and Papa so long?_ Vittoria knew better than to interrupt them while they were “talking”, which could be code for doing anything. She remembered the night she found her Mama and Papa "talking", even though she'd very much like to forget. And no, it did not look like the tickle fights she was used to hearing about or receiving. 

Vittoria scampered back into her room and decided to do what she was so good at: playing alone. Mama was pregnant again and even though she hated her brother, she'd rather get another because she didn’t want a sister. _Papa’ll love her more than me._ She remembered when they told her she'd be a big sister and she started bawling, screaming how she didn’t want another sibling and pleaded for them to get rid of it. Andy had looked shocked, briefly, before his face slipped on a mask of indifference. When she asked why he wasn't complaining about another sibling, he replied, "They wouldn't let _me_ complain about _you_."

She justly started shedding crocodile tears and Papa reprimanded him while Mama watched. In the end, they were both miserable. Mama didn't even look happy, _then again she never looks happy._ In fact, the only person who looked genuinely ecstatic about the news of the baby was Papa. Papa was the happiest in their family. The thought of another sibling and Andy’s mistreatment of her led her to search for another distraction to keep her occupied until they went to wherever they were invited. God knows that she never knew where they were going.

Vittoria picked up the porcelain doll that Papa got her all the way from France! She had named her Claire and she had blonde curls and soft green eyes, _just like me!_ Vittoria called it her twin and caressed its porcelain face, which felt fragile and cool to her touch. “Ciao mia figlia,” she whispered as she ran her finger up and down the doll’s cheek, “Want me to sing to you?”

She held the doll closer to her chest and let her eyes roam hawkishly over her room to find her music box. It played two, that’s right TWO, songs! Row, Row, Row Your Boat and the London Bridge is falling down. It was her very favorite toy! Well, it was her favorite next to her doll, teddy bear, tiaras, playhouse, and practically everything else she owned. Still, she held it in a special place in her heart. Vittoria’s favorite thing to do was to wind it up and put on a musical performance for her parents. _Well Papa, because Mama never listens._ She took it everywhere with her, winding up the gear and singing along to anyone who would listen and occasionally to those who wouldn’t. Everyone else loved it too when she played it in the car, in the dining room, in the living room, and basically every room in the house. _They smiled so wide they looked like they were in pain_! There was scarcely a moment where the Borghese family didn’t hear those soft tunes.

This is why her heart shattered like porcelain or more accurately plastic when she saw the music box destroyed on the floor. The screen was dented, the knob had been ripped out, and there were shards of sharp plastic that littered the floor. Vittoria wasn’t aware of how long the pitiful hard sobs had been leaving her chest, nor was she aware that they were echoing in the lonely room. She was most definitely aware however of the outright fury at this blatant display of foul play! _I don’t know what that means, but Mama says that a lot when she’s suspicious of something._

Her teeth ground and her fists clenched. _Who has a motive?_ Mama said the word motive meant why someone would want to commit a crime, and she could very well think of who. And she knew the means, _is it mean or opportunity? Whatever!_ Well, she knew exactly who it was! 

Discarding the doll to the side, she grabbed the broken box roughly and ran out of her room. Most parents enjoy the little pitter-patter of feet, a wholesome reminder of how children can run around innocent and carefree, not yet aware of the horrors of the world. However there was no little pitter-patter, but instead a violent pounding of rapid footsteps against the floor as she darted straight back to the playroom. Conveniently, he left the door open again once she had been out of sight and there was a very high possibility that he wished he had kept it closed when he saw her livid face stand in the doorway. “YOU BROKE MY MUSIC BOX!” she accused, holding up the broken toy.

His face didn’t even look shocked. Just mildly annoyed. “I didn’t break your stupid box,” he scoffed.

“THEN WHO DID? YOU DID IT! I HATE YOU!” she yelled. 

“Shut up! I didn’t do it!” he yelled frustratedly.

“UH-HUH!” she shrieked and roughly threw it towards him.

The box narrowly missed his head and instead hit the wall. Her heart stopped before seeing no damage was done to the wall. _Thank Jesus. Now, where was I? Oh yeah!_ “You ruined it!”

“You’re an effing psycho!” Andrea said, stomping over towards her to intimidate her with his height, “They should lock you up!”

With all her strength, she gave her older brother a push so hard that he fell to the floor. She was mighty pleased about that given she typically couldn’t do much more than to make him wobble. Her shiny little mary-janes reflected her hate-filled face as she began to kick him in the sides, “CONFESS!”

She really liked that word when she watched shows with Mama. Vittoria had gone around yelling that word quite a bit until Papa put a stop to it. Mama would still let her say it on occasion when Papa wasn’t around though. Now, as angry as she was, she became very aware of how small she was when Andrea got back up and pushed her back, “They’ll put you in a madhouse and you’ll never come out!”

Vittoria took a stumble back before finally losing her balance and fell to the floor with a loud thud. The incoming sounds of footsteps met her ears and with a smug and sinister smirk towards her brother, started crying. “YOU-YOU PUSHED ME!” she sobbed.

“Andrea Giovanni Borghese,” Papa admonished as his hulking figure entered the room.

He didn’t raise his voice. Papa never needed to, because there were much worse things he could do. "She started it! She pushed me and kicked me and-," but Andrea stopped when Papa gave him a hard look.

Papa had a talent for silencing people. She was immediately comforted when her Papa kneeled down next to her and gently took her small hands to guide her up, “He broke my...my...he broke my toy Papa!” she cried when she finally got back to her feet.

“I did not! She’s a liar! She’s lying!” Andy said in a panicked, self-serving voice.

“Yes you did!” she cried and let out a small whimper for effect.

Andrea was in a bad spot. She knew it and he knew it. He was the one standing over her and she was the one who was crying on the floor. The broken toy across the room also didn't do him any favors. She leaned against her Papa and felt very sure justice would be served...until Mama came in. “Why is everyone in this da...house yelling?” she asked in a frustrated voice.

Mama looked very pretty in her dark red dress and pearls. _We match_. Vittoria wondered if she changed her clothes from earlier to match hers. It didn't matter much, given Mama looked pretty in anything.“Andrea broke...he broke my music box,” she accused, pointing at the destroyed toy on the other side of the room.

When Mama’s gaze set itself on the toy, her small lips disappeared and only her noticeable frown lines indicated she was frowning. _She must be really sucking her lips in_! Mama looked like she wanted to say something, but she held her tongue. “Let’s all calm down,” Papa said diplomatically, “Now, tell me what happened Vittoria.”

His eyes looked at her reverently and with a shaky breath, she began to explain the crime scene. Papa patiently waited for her to finish, only casting a stern glare when Andy tried to interrupt. Her brother was smart. _He knows when to shut up._ “And it _has_ to be him because no one else in this house would!” she said smartly before glaring at her older brother, “So just confess!”

“I didn’t do it!” he said defensively, more out of fear of their Papa then anger.

Papa hummed. “Dolcezza, what are your thoughts?” he asked his tone and smile much resembling a person who was just asking about the weather.

Mama was silent for a moment, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. “I-I think we’re going to be late,” she said stiffly and then crossed her arms, “We should go.”

Papa tutted, “And leave our children’s conflict unresolved? That’s not being a very responsible parent _Pazienza._ ”

Mama paled and Vittoria swore she felt the room drop twenty degrees. Her soft green eyes met the bright blue of her brother, who looked towards her for mercy. “Andrea, be honest with us. It’ll go a lot better if you’re honest with us,” he said.

_That was a damn lie_. Andy looked like he was on death row, knowing his fate had already been decided. It wasn't a matter of _if_ he would get punished, but _when_ and how painful it would be. Vittoria learned that pain can come from more than just physical wounds. “Papa,” he whined, tears brimming his eyes, “I swear I didn’t do it!”

“Okay,” Papa sighed.

_Oh no_. “Here’s what we’re going to do, every time you lie to me, I’m going to add onto your punishment. I’ve counted three so far. Are you interested in adding more?” he asked civilly.

Papa never revealed to them what their punishment was until after they confessed and apologized. It was the worst part. Never knowing what it was going to be or how bad it’d go for them. Mama would give them a smack or a spanking, and despite her preference for Papa, Vittoria would rather suffer her mother’s wrath than her father’s. She looked at her brother and did her best to push down the pang of sympathy for him.

Andy was already a fair-skinned boy, but whatever color he had in his cheeks left his face. “Please Papa,” he pleaded before looking at Mama, “Mama, please.”

Vittoria didn’t know how it was possible to look to be both detached and in pain, but Mama managed it quite well. “Four,” Papa counted tonelessly.

He looked annoyed now. They were running late and Andy was taking his sweet time. _Just confess dammit._ "I-I didn't do it! I swear," he pleaded desperately.

"Five," Papa added.

His voice and posture were shaky, but no tears escaped his eyes. Vittoria couldn't remember the last time she saw him cry, hell, if she _ever_ saw him cry. It didn't matter though, because he wore his emotions on his sleeve, which she considered to be his greatest weakness. Papa counted to ten before Andrea's shoulders slumped and he _finally_ admitted it with a shuddering sigh, “I broke it, Papa.”

_There it is._ Papa’s posture straightened, which seemed impossible because it seemed impossibly straight in the first place. “Thank you for your honesty,” he said without a smile, “What do you say to your sister?”

Andy looked over at her. His eyes may have been Papa’s color but they were remarkably like Mama’s as they held a look of resentment, anger, and ultimately a look of defeat. “I’m sorry,” he said before he met Papa’s eyes and added, “For breaking your toy. I’m sorry Vittoria.”

“I accept your apology,” she said civilly.

_I don’t. That was my favorite toy._ “Eccellente. Vittoria, please go clean up your face and then wait for us in the foyer. We won’t be long,” he instructed politely.

Vittora nodded obediently and left the playroom. She made the mistake of turning around just for a moment and she suddenly felt a sense of guilt and fear for her brother as she caught the last glimpse of his face while their Papa shut the door.

***

Vittoria and Andrea sat a space apart from each other during the ride to the opera house. The limo was tense and silent and full of despair that wasn’t apparent to anyone other than its occupants. She didn’t know what Papa did to Andrea, but Mama left looking sick and Andy looked traumatized. _It’s his fault. He broke my toy!_

Without her music box, there was nothing to do in the limousine. Nothing but look at the blur of lights they were passing by on their drive through Garland City. It all looked like a watercolor painting as reds, yellows, pinks, greens, and blues blended together. Vittoria didn’t like how loud the city was, though she was never allowed to voice her thoughts. Papa would be the governor soon. They had to represent Garland City and the state itself as its finest citizens. A point which Papa drilled into their heads.

The silence was finally disrupted with endless chatter, the roar of an audience, and the snapping of cameras taking a picture. _Picture perfect family time._ Papa grinned, his smile was the only one that seemed genuine. “Put on your happy face,” he said.

Andrea and Vittoria obediently slipped on their masks, though Andy’s smile never met his eyes. _Amateur._ Mama was hesitant but ultimately submitted. “You all look so beautiful,” he complimented, whether it was about them or about himself was anyone’s guess, “I can just tell, we’re going to have a great time tonight.”

_We, in fact, did not have a great time that night._

***

_Smile for the camera. Pose. Smile again. Pose._ Vittoria prided herself on being like her Papa, photogenic, and loving the lens of the camera. And he loved that too. She was nestled right into his side, with Mama on the other, her arm around Andrea's shoulders. While Papa, Andy, and she were instructed to face forward, Mama was asked to turn to the side to show her baby bump.

_Why does everyone want to know about that damn baby?_ Mama felt the same way because that’s _all_ they asked her about:

_“Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”_

_“How are you decorating the nursery?”_

_“How are you going to juggle a newborn, two children, running a home, AND being the wife of the state's newest governor?”_

_“Any pregnancy cravings? Tips for expectant mothers?”_

_“Have you picked out a name yet?”_

Suddenly a reporter was in her face, “Are you hoping for a little brother or a little sister sweetheart?”

_Neither._ “I want a sister to play with!” she grinned and lied so well, that Papa gave her a proud smile.

“How do you feel about your daddy being the new governor?” a man asked her.

“I’m super duper proud of him! He’s the hardest worker I know,” she smiled sweetly, meaning every word.

After a few more questions, they were finally ushered inside escaping the bright flashes, pestering people, and the loud clicks of the camera and crowd. Vittoria always loved the opera house. It was so grand and opulent, and entirely romantic! It was where Mama and Papa met, and where they fell madly in love. Their love story was truly like a fairy tale and she always wanted love as epic as theirs! As much as she saw that contradicted that pure thought, she wholely believed in her Papa when he said they were happieir than any other couple in the world.

The family of four clung together as Papa acquainted himself with important people. Vittoria and Andrea were only there to be props, as usual. “They’re getting so big!” one large man exclaimed.

“Look at her,” a friend of his smirked, “Oh you’re gonna have to fight people off of her the day she turns eighteen.”

_What?_ “Maybe even me,” he laughed.

“Well, I’ll be there with my gun,” Mama said, without a smile. 

Papa stiffened, and she followed his eyes towards her. Mama ignored Papa and just intensely stared at the man with a fierce protectiveness over her daughter that Vittoria had never seen. Typically, Mama never spoke with Papa’s friends, they made her sick so whatever was so bad about what the man said must’ve been bad enough that she threw caution to the wind. If she had known her mother before her birth, then maybe she would’ve understood that this was a small remaining part of Patience Winslow that was trying to claw its way out. But she had never met the woman before she had been broken down by marriage and motherhood.

Her words were like a gunshot, ringing in the ears that followed with silence. It was silent for just a moment, but that moment felt like forever and only ended when Papa laughed, “Dolcezza, you’re too funny!” 

Mama never put her smile back on, even though Vittoria did. “She’s feeling extra protective with the baby on the way. Isn’t that right?” he said through a smile.

She didn't notice her Mama's expression tighten or even hear her wince as Papa roughly squeezed her hand. Vittoria never saw what Papa did to her Mama behind closed doors and whatever he did in public escaped her attention too. They continued to chat, but the atmosphere was less friendly. Mama’s smile returned but her eyes bore holes into the men who she noticed were gazing too long at her nine-year-old daughter. Mama may not have liked her, but she disliked grown men liking her child even more. 

Eventually, after too many snarky comments, Papa suggested that Mama sit down for the sake of the baby who “must be putting a lot of undue stress on your feet and back.” Well, Mama sat down alright. _At the bar._ It took a while before Vittoria was included in the conversation again, well included was a generous word. They talked _about_ her in front of her, but she was so bored she took all the attention she could get. 

Poor Andrea, no one noticed him. No one even noticed that he had left to find their mother whose only sign of being at the bar were empty glasses, and her seat growing cold. Vittoria rarely sat with her mother at these types of events, and instead stood by her Papa’s side the entire night. _Mama never does that. I think I’d be a better wife to Papa than she is_.

While she stood by his side, she thought of what it’d be like to be married to him. To have a big grand wedding where she wore a beautiful white gown and danced slowly to the sound of Row, Row, Row Your Boat. _Damn you for breaking it, Andy._ Maybe, _A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes,_ would be a better selection. _Or, or, OR Once Upon a Dream! That’s my very very very_ ** _favorite_** _movie!_ Vittoria had a lot of favorites, but Sleeping Beauty was undoubtedly her favorite movie of all time and in her opinion the finest film in existence.

Vittoria unknowingly began humming and swaying to her favorite song. _Maybe Papa will dance with me._ She tugged on the sleeve of his suit, causing a crease in the fabric and in his brow when he saw it. “Papa, will you dance with me?” she asked sweetly.

She made sure to widen her eyes to look as sweet and innocent as possible. He let out a good-natured gasp, and smiled at her sweetly, “You want to dance with me?”

“Uh-huh,” she smiled.

“Well how could I refuse such a precious little principessa?” he grinned before looking back at the men, “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

Papa was a powerful man. So powerful that he got the orchestra to **_actually_** play _Once Upon a Dream._ Vittoria was full of such giddiness that she thought she’d pass out. She basically bounced all the way to the dance floor, and only slowed down when Papa began to instruct her on how to dance with him. He was a large man, so she had to stand on his feet but that was alright. Vittoria was pleased to just move around with her favorite person to her favorite song from her favorite movie.

“Very graceful principessa,” he cooed as they danced around with the other couples.

“Grazie,” she said politely, before dropping her voice to a whisper, “Do you think the other people know this song?”

“I don’t think so,” he said seriously, “They’re not as cultured as you.”

Papa indulged her quite a bit. In ways, he did for no one else. She hoped he wouldn’t do so for the baby. “Will you still love me if you have another girl?” she asked with a watery voice.

It was another one of his smiles, the real ones. She had no idea how much her words affected him. The desperation and desire to be loved by him for eternity fulfilled every fantasy he had placed upon her. She was his perfect princess. “I will love you now and until the end of my life,” he whispered.

“And after that?” she asked.

“And I will love you after that,” he said, as he continued to lead her around the dance floor until the melody ended.

***

They made an endearing sight. Picture perfect. One of the very reasons Leonardo had agreed to the dance was because what better way to make the public love him (more than they already did) then by dancing wholesomely with his little girl. All he could think of was how clever he was for fixing her mess of hair that her mother forced upon her. And speaking of her mother, his eyes set on his dear dolcezza and her curved figure. She truly was never more beautiful than when she was pregnant with his child.

His eyes filled with lust and his breathing grew heavier when he saw the swell of her belly. He felt blessed to be part of such a sacred process of life and that he had physically affected her in such a way. Patience really did make him such beautiful children. She was on the edge of the dance floor, looking around and not meeting his eyes. She wasn't even looking at him. Annoyed, he gently took his daughter's hand and led her over while keeping his face pleasant. “Dolcezza,” he said with lust in his voice, “Share the next dance with me?”

Her expression looked like a deer in the headlights, startled and frightened. “What is it?” he asked.

It didn’t take Leonardo long to recognize her expression and understand what was wrong. He knew before she answered. “I can’t find Andrea,” she said.

***

Vittoria could tell both of them wanted to panic. Anyone else might not be able to see it with her Papa, but she could. _I’m very proud of that fact._ “Where did you last see him?” he asked.

“With you,” Mama said with a tinge of worry.

_You never sounded so worried when you left_ ** _me_** _in the grocery store_. _He’ll show up. He just wants attention._ Vittoria was annoyed rather than frightened for her brother. _Maybe he’s gone for good. And I’ll be an only child! There will be no one to break my toys and-,_ “Is he yours?” asked a gruff voice.

_Oh._ Mama let out a sigh of relief and the stress in Papa’s face disappeared. “Where did you find him?” he asked.

“Outside in the front,” the security guard said, “Was causing no trouble, but we recognized that he was the governor’s kid and brought him back in.”

“Thank you,” Papa said as he pulled Andrea towards him by the shoulder, and gave a nod for the guard to leave.

_He didn’t even have the decency to disappear for an hour. So close._ “What were you thinkin-” slurred Mama.

“I needed some air,” he shrugged casually.

Well, that certainly wasn’t the attitude that was appropriate for the moment _._ Papa frowned, “We came here as a family, so you will stay here and _smile_ with your family."

"Yes Papa," Andrea said quietly but clearly.

If there was one thing the Borghese children knew how to do, it was knowing how to apologize to their father correctly. It didn't take too many lessons for them to learn how to do that. Papa nodded, "We will talk at home. Do not make it worse tonight.”

Andrea looked up at Papa and knowing it was for his own sake, nodded obediently. They weren’t afraid that much of Mama and typically felt more comfortable to run their mouths a bit more in her presence but never in their wildest dreams would they be smart mouths with Papa. _Even Jesus Christ would call that a lost cause._ Papa’s attention was once again redirected to the important people with names that Vittoria didn’t know and didn’t care to know. They were only important to him.

“Watch him better ths time,” he said sternly as he gently guided Andy towards Mama, “Vittoria, come with me.”

Papa’s hand tightened around hers and she couldn’t help but try and lighten the mood when her mother and brother were out of earshot. “We can’t take them anywhere,” she laughed.

Well, _she_ laughed. Papa did not. He gave her a quick pop on the mouth, “Don’t speak ill of the family outside our house. Understood?”

Vittoria brought her hand up to her mouth and rubbed it. _That hurt._ His chastisement went unnoticed by everyone else so she at least had the decency of not being publicly humiliated. Image is everything after all. “I understand Papa,” she said remorsefully.

“We have to put up a united front Vittoria. There are people who will try and tear us down. You can’t rely on anyone but our family,” he said, his deep blue eyes baring down at her.

His gaze made her feel like she wanted the Earth to swallow her whole. _I hate disappointing him._ When he saw she understood, he brought her towards his friends. _The ones Mama doesn’t like._ Vittoria couldn’t help but keep looking back at Mama and Andrea, who was being reprimanded by a slightly slurring woman. Whatever she was saying, he looked like he was taking it with grace.

Despite everything, Vittoria had her Papa. They were a team, but it seemed they were the only team in the house. She and Andrea were close in age but had wildly different interests and attitudes. They never spent time together willingly and preferred to keep to themselves. She wondered if he was lonely because he didn’t even have Mama on his side. Neither of them did, but she at least had someone.

As time passed, she grew impatient and her bladder began to hurt. She hadn’t been to the bathroom since well before they left the house and began to furiously tap her mary-janes against the marble tile. “Vittoria, stop that,” he said off-handedly.

“I-I have to go to the bathroom,” she whispered miserably.

Her voice was so quiet, he must've not heard her because he gave no indication of granting her request. She wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom alone at functions like this, which she found quite stupid. “Daddy,” she whined, tugging on his sleeve, “I’ve gotta go…”

“Not now, Vittoria,” he hissed as he was trying to listen to whatever boring thing they were talking about.

_I’ll die if I wet myself._ Her nose stung at the thought, and tears fell down her face. _I hope he doesn’t notice me being unhappy. I don’t wanna get in trouble._ It was getting harder and harder to hold it in and she started to leak. Her face was heating up with embarrassment.

_Please Lord, help me._ “Papa, I have to-,” she said a little more forcefully before he squeezed her hand hard.

“Non interrompere di nuovo,” he hissed, leaning down to her face.

The venom in his tone scared her and she suddenly felt her worst fear come true. Warm tears were now streaming down her reddening cheeks at the humiliation that she now felt warm urine streaming down her legs, seeping through her stockings. When Papa looked down at the growing puddle, she couldn’t tell if he was more embarrassed, disgusted, or angry towards her. He exhaled through his nose, the air brushing Vittoria’s face as his red lips tightened. 

She was standing in her mess, and by the grace of God, the men were so self-absorbed they hadn’t noticed. Papa flagged Mama down, who took her sweet-ass time to come over to them and passed her off like a sack of garbage. _Because that’s what I am._ “I’ll take him now. Take her with you and clean her up,” he commanded.

“Wow, you really are a-,” Andy began to tease before Papa harshly cut him off.

“Do _not_ finish that sentence,” he said strictly before turning to Mama, “Go.”

Mama frowned as she roughly pulled her towards the ladies' room. _Just wait until you get in. Just wait. Only a little further...only a little further..._ She practically ran into the bathroom and began to sob. “Mama, I’m so-,” she began.

“You’re not two, Vittoria. You know how to use the bathroom,” she said in annoyance.

_He wouldn't let me go._ "But-," she began.

“Take off your shoes and stockings,” Mama commanded impatiently.

“Can you hug me?” she cried.

“No. You’re a mess. Do what I just told you now,” she said callously.

“I wanna hug, Mama!”

“I swear to God if you don’t do what I say in the next three seconds,” she cried in frustration.

“You’re a bad mommy!”

Her head was already to the side before the hot pain of the slap registered on her cheek. Her tears had stopped, and instead, she sunk into a state of shock. _I hate my family._ It was incredible really, how one slap removed all of the light in her eyes. Mama’s breath shuddered. It was hot and reeked of the stale smell of alcohol. “Just. Do. It,” she said slowly but heatedly.

Vittoria numbly removed her shoes and stockings and put them on the sink counter. _This couldn’t possibly get any worse._ “Underwear next,” Mama said as she took the stockings and threw them in the trash. 

_Of course._ Her face grew redder as she removed the damp undies from between her legs. Mama’s face scrunched up and she gave a scoff of disgust as she took them from her daughter and buried them in the trash can. Vittoria watched her run a paper towel under water and pump it full of soap. “I’m going to clean your legs now,” she said as she picked her up to sit on the counter.

The marble felt cool against her wet legs, and she almost felt bad that she was getting pee on the counter but she wasn't in the headspace to care too much. She appreciated that Mama told her what she was going to do to her body before she did it. The damp cloth felt clammy and slimy against her legs, but she didn’t argue. _I’m already in trouble._ Mama threw it away and got another one without soap, “I’m going to clean your…” Mama paused trying to find the word, “Kitty now.”

Vittoria nodded and looked away from her Mama as she did that. She looked into the sink and saw the water draining down. _I wanna just rinse away. I don’t wanna be here._ Mama rinsed her off one more time before drying her off. “There,” she said tiredly, “You’ll still take a bath when we get home.”

Vittoria nodded as she was picked up and set on the floor. “What about my underwear?”

“You can’t wear those. We’ll have to go home,” Mama sighed, but she didn’t seem too displeased at the prospect of leaving.

Vittoria blushed in shame and watched her Mama wash her hands. Mama was always tired, and she never looked more worn down than she did as she leaned against the sink and stared at her reflection. _Mama has everything a woman could ever want. Why is she always unhappy?_ A couple of seconds passed before Mama looked over at her, “Vittoria, I’m going to ask you something. I want you to be honest.”

“Okay.”

“Has…” Mama looked very uncomfortable, even scared, “Has anyone ever touched you down there?” 

Mama pointed to her private parts. She looked at her curiously, “What do you mean?”

“In...in a way that made you uncomfortable or scared. In a way that felt wrong,” Mama asked worriedly.

The worriedness in her voice lifted her spirits up. _She’s worried about me!_ It was all she needed at that moment, to know someone still cared a little bit about her. “No, Mama,” she replied softly.

Mama searched the eyes identical to hers as if she’d find a lie if she looked hard enough. “If anyone does, you tell me,” she said, straightening her posture, "No matter _who_ it is."

The gentleness in her tone and eyes vanished once again, leaving Vittoria with the cold and detached shell of a woman. “I promise Mama,” she said, hoping that would at least earn her a hug or a smile.

_No such luck._ Mama swiftly led her out of the restroom and back into the ballroom. When she saw Papa’s gaze, she only had one thought in her mind: _I’m not having a great time tonight._

***

Leonardo entered their bedroom and watched his wife remove her earrings and necklace. “The children are washed and tucked in,” he purred as he went behind her and wrapped his arms around his dear dolcezza, his large hands settling on the swell of her belly.

Just the sight of her made him hard. “How are you not tired after all of that?” she asked a twinge of despair in her voice.

He began to kiss her neck with gentle pecks. Her body tensed, he could actually feel the muscles tighten under his ministrations. _After all this time_ , _after giving her three children, everything she could ask for, a family...and she still makes an effort to be as stiff as a board._ He made an effort to remain unbothered by it. He couldn't give anything away just yet. “Must you?” she hissed.

She wasn’t an active participant without an incentive, but she still made it fun when she would hiss at him like a feral cat. It made it all the more satisfying when he had to tame her. “You owe me dolcezza...I covered for you today…” he smiled into her neck as he began to brush the straps of her dress down her shoulders.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” she snapped, turning around quickly.

“Language,” he reminded her.

Verbally. He’d give her a proper reminder later. “You know, I truly thought Vittoria’s tears would compel you to be honest. Then I thought it would be Andrea’s pleading before and during his punishment, but oh no. You were as quiet as a mouse. It’s a shame you don’t do it when it’s useful,” he lectured.

_And she has the nerve to call me heartless_. “What are you-,” she asked, confusion on her face.

“I saw _you_ break it Patience,” he smiled, knowing he had caught her.

“I-I,” she stuttered, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He saw her mind working a million times a minute to come up with an excuse, but he had no patience to hear them. “I don’t particularly blame you for doing it on purpose. You did this family a favor. Personally, that toy is an abomination and only serves to grind parents’ nerves down to dust, however, you let our son take the blame for something you did,” he smirked, “I’m almost impressed.”

He was completely honest about the last part, and couldn’t help but to voice it out loud simply for the pleasure of seeing her absolute look of disgust and shame that painted her face when he said it. “Fuck you! You’re a monster. Punishing your own son when you knew he was innocent! How could-,” she screeched.

“Once again. Language. And it hardly says anything about my character given that you stood by and watched it happen. Watching our two children be miserable,” he said with a coldness in his voice, “The punishment I gave him was light. After all, you’re the guilty one here.”

Those words had the effect he was looking for. Leonardo took in her look of realization of where everything was headed. That he was about to tame her. As he moved towards her, he admired how small she was, how she looked so submissive when she was scared. _A perfect wife._ There were days he could almost convince himself that was true. _One day._ Hot tears were rolling down her cheeks and he could see the tremors in her body. _Beautiful._ “Take off your dress dolcezza,” he whispered into her ear.

***

The only sound in the dark bedroom came from the miserable sniffles of Vittoria Borghese. _Why couldn't you give me a family who loved me?_ Papa had washed her but hadn’t said anything about that night. _I messed up. I’m a failure._

In a house with three other people, she never felt more alone. _I should’ve been able to hold it._ That thought alone caused a steady stream of tears to dampen her pillow. _I want him to love me again._ Her sobs had grown louder and had attracted the attention of the person on the other side of the door, whose presence she didn’t notice until the light of the hallway met her eyes. “Vittoria?” whispered a voice.

“Andy?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the light.

Her brother came in without asking and shut the door while she reached to turn on her table lamp. Andy was wearing a light blue pair of silk pajamas which looked infinitely warmer than her pink silk nightgown. “Are...are you okay?”

_It’s a trap. He’s coming in to tease you and be mean...he’s here because you made him mad._ But it hurt. She was a nine-year-old girl in pain and she just needed to cry to someone, even if he’d hurt her right after. Her lip wobbled and she began to sob, “I…I didn’t mean to!” 

Andrea took a seat next to her and wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he whispered and kissed the top of her curls.

His comforting gestures made her lose any of her remaining composure. “I really really really tried,” she cried into his chest, causing a big wet patch to form on the silk.

“I wanna go away!” she continued, “I just wanna…”

She never asked why Andy was suddenly nice to her. _He shouldn't be after all of our hitting, yelling, kicking, and fighting_. The "why" didn't matter right now though. Frankly, she didn't care enough to ask and she suspected he didn't care enough to explain. Vittoria didn’t know how to really process what she was feeling. _I feel sad. I want my sadness to end._

_But how do you end sadness_? Her despair didn’t go away, but it was okay because neither did her brother. He held her and listened to her. Andrea crawled under the covers with her and listened to her troubles and woes, and he shared his own troubles with her. No, neither of them were happy but they were content to be together that night as goes that old saying, _misery loves company._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was okay! I'm not entirely confident about it, because I'm always so nervous writing about Patience 😬


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